


Halt

by ShadowSelene (Shadowdianne)



Series: Cissamione [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-11 23:39:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17456480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/ShadowSelene
Summary: Your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to create SOMETHING based on the following: Hermione takes Narcissa to experience the wonders of the Muggle world, trying to convince her there's nothing scary about it. Narcissa is nearly accepting, until they get trapped in a lift. HOW WILL HERMIONE DEAL WITH IT? (Bonus points for gratuitous smut)Asked by Naralanis back at tumblr





	Halt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Naralanis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naralanis/gifts).



> Insert usual disclaimer here about how this story is my second on this fandom, first “almost” smut for this fandom and me being a Ravenclaw through and through I spend far too much time working on each dialogue line so it, at least, sound believable.  
> Ok, disclaimer finished; I’ll wait on my corner while cackling a little bit.  
> -For the ones that could, as myself, spend half an hour into reading several articles on Otis Elevator Company let’s imagine that I’m talking about a 19th lift here. Possibility of that being an actual thing? I’m calling it artistic license  
> I will also make a second swipe in order to catch any typo or problem when it's not... 2:43am so sorry for anything that may or may not have escaped my edition.

“Come on, you will enjoy it.” Hermione’s excited tone was drowned by the clinking of her keys as she pocketed them under Narcissa’s blue gaze, a blonde brow arching incredulously as the older witcher stepped backwards, letting the brunette surpass her and call the clunky elevator on her apartment building.

Sighing, Narcissa followed suit, stepping inside the small space before turning to face Hermione who was grinning at her; eyes filled with the candor the older woman usually found endearing. Not this time, however, as she pursed her lips, ironing invisible lines on the robes she wore; muggle-looking enough for them to not be considered strange on the neighborhood the brunette had chosen to live in.

“I never said I won’t” The blonde replied, softly yet succinctly as the doors of the elevator closed behind them both, the sound not so different from the even older-looking elevator that existed on the Ministry would have made. Fighting the reflex of pressing her hands against the nearest wall, waiting for it to tremble and move at neck-breaking speed, the older witch crossed her hands just above her navel at her wrist level. The movement was telling enough for Hermione to reach forward, trying to interlace her fingers with her. Smiling slightly at the gesture, Narcissa let the brunette grasp her hand while eyeing her through suddenly heavy-lidded eyes, her blue eyes turning a shade darker. Maybe she could play a little game. To amuse herself at least. “But I would prefer to spend your free day doing something else.”

Hermione chuckled a little at that, her thumb drawing a slow circle on Narcissa’s skin as the elevator began its descent, the wooden paneling that covered the walls trembling for a second. It was true, she reflected, tilting her head to one side as Narcissa took a step forward, blonde tresses glimmering under the dull lights that bathed the small space.  

They both knew the older witch had a point on the fact that they both could use some time to be together; without any kind of external meddling. Yet, Hermione felt giddy at the idea of showing Narcissa the London that the older woman so rarely got to see. Which had been the reason why, after a lazy breakfast, she had managed to draw out a reluctant “Yes” to the idea of a simple walk. Perhaps, if she was feeling daring, show Narcissa how the tube worked.

Nevertheless, Narcissa’s warm hand on hers, her blue eyes focusing intently on her, made her lick her lips as her mind was flooded precisely by what they had been doing before that lazy breakfast. The rumpled sheets they had left behind the now closed apartment door a strong enough testimony that maybe, just maybe, she could make the walk shorter.

Feeling daring, she gave a gentle squeeze to Narcissa’s hand, the blonde’s azure eyes still on her, far too vibrant.

“What if I promised to reward you?” Her voice sounded breathier than she had originally thought it would be; her relationship with the older witch not exactly new but still electrifying for her to blink and think on maybe taking a step back before she was unable to stop the blush she felt beginning to crawl up her neck.

Before she could even move the ever-present clattering of the old elevator came to a stop with a not-so promising growl; a whirring sound echoing as a sudden tremor on the floor made both witches lose their footing. Letting Narcissa’s hand go, Hermione turned quickly towards the button panel, the stillness confirming her fears before she even got to press any button she was able to reach, a sense of dread quickly coiling around her throat.

There was no way around it; they were stuck.

“Isn’t this bloody fantastic.” The blonde’s voice echoed at Hermione’s back. The swearing, coupled with an obvious surprise, echoed strangely inside the elevator, the sound ricocheting against the walls.

Regaining her usual composure, Narcissa quickly approached Hermione, the sudden movement making her clothes billow slightly as she reached for her wand, the dark wood a striking contrast on her fingers as she eyed the muggle contraption; the beginning of a spell already making the air around the wand glimmer. Light that was quickly snuffed out as Hermione promptly blocked the panel from Narcissa’s view with both of her hands, brown eyes pleading.

 “No, you can’t do that.” She said before pointing towards where the doors stood, glaringly shut. “Muggle side of London, remember? If we use magic and someone sees us Secrecy is out of the window.”

Narcissa huffed at that, a voice on her mind whispering how Hermione was being overly cautious. An idea she refrained herself from stating out loud as she knew the younger witch, working for the ministry after all, had a point. Magic and muggle objects didn’t tend to work together, no matter how experienced the magic wielder was. A “reparo” could make matters worse; the signal that would create for muggles one she didn’t intend to find out. However, the small space was beginning to creep on her and so she pocketed her wand once again, the movement firmer, perhaps, than intended.

“What do you suggest then? Waiting until someone realizes this is not working?” She let out a quick smile, one that showed her discomfort in a way only the younger witch was able to bring despite the hours upon hours she had spent on learning how to never let one’s façade fall. “I thought you wanted to show me the wondrous muggle world.”

Her tone had been cutting there and she winced immediately at it; at her temper riling as she felt the constricting atmosphere inside the elevator get the worse out of her. It was no secret for the woman in front of her she hated used these things; both magic and non-magical, but she still parted her lips, an apology ready to fall Hermione’s roll-eyes cut it, the brunette obviously not-having any of her temper tantrum.

 “It won’t be long until someone calls it. We just need to sit tight for a little while.” She seemed unperturbed, not even mentioning the possibility of apparating. Which was also Narcissa was halfway considering despite the small space they were in, the spin the hex would need to work a tight fit. Pouting petulantly, the expression causing Hermione to chuckle fondly at her in that same way Narcissa would often found endearing, the blonde witch shook her head ever so slightly as the brunette leaned onto the nearest wall, the back of her head pressed against it, fingers picking the rim of the jumper she wore beneath her jacket; the only sign that she wasn’t as unfazed as she was pretending to be.

 “Just a few minutes, please?” Hermione said as Narcissa said nothing, simply standing there as she clenched and unclenched her hands. Her voice was soft, devoid of the earlier giddiness, but her eyes were just as bright, beckoning in a way as she lifted her eyebrow in an eerily similar way the blonde had done mere minutes before. “If no one comes to us I promise I will apparate us myself.”

Narcissa wasn’t surprised Hermione had reached to the same conclusion as she had had but she still nibbled her bottom lip, her chin rising ever so slightly as she -quite melodramatically if she wanted to be truthful, replied to that possibility.

“I don’t know why we can’t do that now.”

Which was still a valid reason but not one Hermione seemed close to even think about as she moved forward, separating herself from the wall and mimicking her earlier action of grasping Narcissa’s right hand between hers. Muscles suddenly slack, Narcissa watched as Hermione wordlessly began to massage the palm of her hand, small impulses running up her fingers as the brunette pressured the spots where her manicured nails had indented her skin a few seconds ago.

The massage turned into soft lazy circles that began just on the bruised skin only to slither up the blonde’s palm until it reached the tender skin on her wrist, just below her pulse. Halting there but drumming her fingers on a slowly building staccato, the brunette remained silent, her presence calming as seconds ticked by. Which, if Narcissa wanted to be honest, was actually helping wonders to the thought of her being stuck on such small place.

“I really wanted to have you for myself.” She finally admitted, softly, and the way her voice was laced with more wishful want than she had thought it would be didn’t deter her from eye Hermione as the younger witch’s ears pinked, a blush crawling its way up her neck.

The obvious “ _Not being stuck in a lift.”_ resonated just as loudly but Narcissa didn’t say those words out loud as she heard how Hermione cleared her throat, the drumming on her skin stopping entirely as the brunette tilted her head, a sudden daring glint appearing on the back of her eyes while she re-focused on Narcissa’s own curious irises.

She wasn’t surprised at the fire that suddenly darkened the brown speckled with gold, but she still felt the rush, the exhilaration of seeing the Gryffindor side take over Hermione’s expression. With a smile that inched closer and closer to a smirk the more seconds that passed, the brunette rose their hands, pressing a kiss on the inside of Narcissa’s wrist, a small bite and lick following in a matter of seconds with those eyes still burning through her, scorching her.

The brunette took a step closer, still inches away but close enough for them both to know what was the implicit message on the way she kept her mouth closer to Narcissa’s body, the scent of perfume the blonde had applied there earlier seeming to get stronger for a moment, a second, as Hermione kept eyeing her. But, as much as the brunette could be a Gryffindor, Narcissa wasn’t a Black just for show and, with a tilt of her head, locks falling into place, cascading, liquid-looking almost, she moved her arm away, forcing Hermione to move closer; lose the control slightly at the sudden change of energy.

 “I would have never thought you would be this brazen.” The remark was said softly, the tone airier, almost conversationally and Narcissa could see Hermione struggling not to slip from whatever edge she was mentally clasping to.

It wasn’t like Narcisa thought the brunette could be brazen, or proactive, but the younger woman usually enjoyed being the one who followed her lead; the possibility of her even thinking on trying to hint at something less chaste than a kiss on their situation was interesting to say the least. And, certainly, something she intended to use in the future. For now, however, she wanted to see how far she could push the brunette, her previous nervousness regarding their predicament pushed to the back of her mind. It wasn’t, her rational side whispered, like they were really trapped; despite the inconvenience she knew that if she pressed enough, if there was an actual possibility of danger, Hermione herself would be the first to use magic. So, she thought, still holding her arm close to her chest, her hand turned into an almost relaxed fist, palm facing her and Hermione’s strong fingers around her wrist, she could very well see for how long the brunette wanted to keep the game on.

Which, if the way Hermione shook her head, pushing whatever dust of pink from her cheeks down was any indication, certainly a little bit longer.

“Gryffindor, remember?” Her voice dropped at the question, the rise never quite appearing as she let her eyes wander over Narcissa’s figure. The movement carrying with it a shiver the blonde hummed appreciatively at. “And if this helps you while we wait…”

The blonde wasn’t going to let the opportunity to tease go to waste and, with that in mind, shrugged daintily before grinning, teeth bare and glinting under the elevator’s lights.

“Oh, it certainly helps, but I would want something more.”

She saw the moment Hermione’s facial muscles contracted, an almost eye-narrowing that didn’t happen as Narcissa moved forward, cupping the younger witch’s cheek with her free hand deciding that, if she was going to be stuck for the time being, she was going to use it to let Hermione realize what they both could be doing instead of standing around. Barely giving the brunette a moment aside from the millisecond she usually used so Hermione could nod, granting her permission, Narcissa pressed her lips against Hermione’s, a quite mild kiss all things considered as she barely nipped the brunette’s bottom lip, the ghost-like graze of her teeth an afterthought on her original plan.

A plan Hermione promptly destroyed as she, instead of backing up, admitting between gasps she had merely wanted to throw Narcissa from a loop, pressed against her, her chest flush against the blonde’s with their arms the only real barrier as she deepened the kiss, a flash of tongue caressing hers the sign that made Narcissa think she could have bitten more than she was able to chew. Which, regarding the younger witch, rarely left Narcissa indifferent.

Mirroring Narcissa’s previous caress on her cheek, Hermione’s slide her free hand over the blonde’s shoulder, climbing up her neck, wrapping her fingers around silk-like tresses, tugging ever so slightly. Enough, Narcissa quickly discovered, to make her gasp, leaving more and more access to a quickly domineering brunette.

 “I’m starting to think you stopped this awful thing.” She managed to gasp as Hermione moved from her mouth to her jaw, the kisses there less frantic, slower, but making her skin sizzle and burn.

“Why would I?” She heard and there was there that delightful Gryffindor pitch, the smug one, the one that sometimes appeared when the brunette was able to see what others, older and supposedly wiser, should have seen already. Narcissa had been privy to many moments like this but it was rare for the brunette to get carried away by it like this; sounding almost drunk on the feeling. She decided that she liked that side of the younger witch even more now and, with her arm still trapped, the length of the wand pressed against her skin, she flattened her loose fist, palm resting against her chest, her heartbeat loud and clear.

Heartbeat that quickened as Hermione, sensing the movement, took a step back, barely an inch really, so she could guide her hand, placing it at her side, never once looking away from Narcissa with brown eyes that seemed to be filled with a myriad of tonalities that got only darker as she, after freeing Narcissa’s hand, slide her own hand back up, towards the blonde’s chest in where the minuscule buttons that kept the upper side of the robe together were concealed by a simple charm.

Not that it truly mattered as Hermione knew perfectly well where those buttons were, her fingers grazing the fabric in suddenly too slow movements.

And Narcissa Black would never beg but she felt a grunt asking to be released from the back of her throat; the fact that they were still there, in the middle of an elevator, no longer important as she lowered her gaze, her eyes zeroing over Hermione’s fingers as they, painfully slow, unfastened the first few buttons. The feeling of the fabric shagging on her shoulders, sliding off one as it began to part was nothing really to the way Hermione’s eyes followed the movement; halting on her collarbones, tips of her fingers stopping in the middle of her sternum, warmth radiating out of her as she took a step away. Skimming her hands over Narcissa’s diaphragm as the blonde stood still, chin high, proud, but breathing labored, Hermione bite down on her lip, the opportunity to taste, to see more, fueling her forward until she couldn’t take it anymore.

The blonde saw the way Hermione’s eyes darkened further when a peek of the lace she had magicked on herself before the brunette had convinced her to this little adventure; resolute to seduce her for a few more hours, let itself known. Black details that contrasted against her pale skin wrapped around her chest, pronouncing the swell of her breasts, framing her torso as she breathed deeply, the movement occasioning the robe to slide further down her shoulders.

Narcissa Black half-naked in an elevator. Who would have thought?

Hermione’s voice, however, was what brought the blonde back to the present, her voice husky and deeper than usual.

 “You certainly had some plans in mind.” The obvious fluster in her tone, the sudden loss of the driving force that had made Narcissa unable really to do anything else but enjoy herself was what made the older witch reclaim the proximity she had lost; grasping the brunette’s forearm and pulling until she could feel the texture of Hermione’s jumper on her partially naked skin.

“I definitely had them.” She replied before dropping a kiss on parted lips, a brief gasp escaping Hermione’s mouth, one that was quickly followed by a moan as Narcissa guided her hand to her chest, the texture of the lace a pale comparison against the caress of Hermione’s hands. Kissing and nibbling, grazing Hermione’s jaw, down her neck, never biting but always letting herself taste the younger woman, Narcissa ravished the younger woman. Because, despite the situation, the fact that she was the one half-dressed, she was the one who was always poised, always in control. Which was something the brunette witch would hate if it wasn’t for the fact that she adored it. And, as Narcissa chuckled, mirth and want mixed on her eyes, she let her voice carry one more promise, one that she knew would be the final blow on an already weakened resolve. “I can show them to you…”

Hermione didn’t even pretend she wanted something more than that, merely whimpering at the idea and muttering a “yes” that had Narcissa humming.

 “Let me apparate us.”

Eyes opening, hazy, Hermione growled but nodded, unable to say no, not with Narcissa’s hands on her, guiding her as her hand curled and palmed, caressing, touching. The blonde’s magic signature felt all over her, inside her, and she could only relent.

The blonde smirked and with the robes still halfway unbuttoned, the black lace still peeking through, she pushed Hermione, making her take a step backwards, enough for her to reach to her wand and spinning them both, effectively leaving the small space and reappearing inside the apartment, at the edge of the unmade bed. They will have many more days for the brunette to show more of the world she grew up in to the older witch. Today, however, it’s for them. Only them.

**Author's Note:**

> Considering my record I behaved quite well...


End file.
